Broken
by stephaniew
Summary: Something's happened to leave Dean lost and broken, leaving Sophia to try to help him pick up the pieces. An angsty little one-shot inspired by a shot from Torn and Frayed.


A/N: So I found myself inspired by a screenshot from the most recent episode of Supernatural, "Torn and Frayed." Good God, what Jensen Ackles can convey with just a look! This is one of the moments where I don't really know what's happening, I just know I have to write it down. I'm hoping you can imagine something suitably awful to prompt the below scene. I know I can.

This one has not been beta'd as I thought I'd give my poor beta a break after she's listened to me ramble on about far too many story ideas lately as well as reading a bunch of bits of things I've spit out. She's very patient with me and I appreciate her support! Hugs to **TLOGirl**!

Also, thank you to **dharmamonkey**, friend and fellow writer for encouraging me to publish this, even without having read it. :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Sophia. I wish I owned Dean, but that's another story.

Broken

Sophia stops in the doorway as she catches sight of Dean. Her hand comes up to cover her mouth and her eyes fill with sympathetic tears.

He sits at the end of the sofa, staring into the fire burning brightly in the hearth. An empty bottle of cheap whiskey sits on the table in front of him. His hand rests on one knee and he's unnaturally still. Unnaturally for Dean, at least. But it's the look on his face that stops Sophia in her tracks.

He looks almost...broken. His sadness reaches out to her, tugging at her heart. She approaches slowly, unsure of her welcome, but wanting to help him. To heal him. To make sure he knows he's not alone.

Lingering near his knees, she fidgets slightly and tries to think of something to say. Something that doesn't sound completely worthless and contrived. Something that could penetrate the torment radiating from him. But there's nothing to say. Not really. Instead she reaches a hand out to him, offering all she has: herself.

When he sees her hand and looks up at her, she has to choke back a sob. Broken doesn't even begin to cover it. To describe the anguish on his face. The pain and vulnerability. As if he might shatter at any moment. She's never seen him like this, not even when he told her about his time in Hell. It makes her feel both more helpless and more determined to help him.

Dean takes her hand, fingers tightening painfully around hers. Neither says a word. She pauses for the space of a whispered breath before she drops into his laps. Releasing his hand, she wraps her arms around him, feeling him bury his face in her neck. Hot tears follow.

His arms slip around her waist, holding on as he shudders against her. She strokes the back of his neck and kisses the top of his head. Whispering soft shushes, she holds him as close as she can, hands attempting to soothe. Hoping her presence will be enough.

It could have been minutes or hours before he finally stops shaking. Sophia keeps her soothing touches moving, still whispering soft nonsense. Eventually, she begins to speak, letting her heart tell her what to say.

"It's okay, baby, I'm here. I'm here. You're not alone. I love you. Stay with me. It'll be okay. I don't know how, but I promise we'll make it right. I'll be with you the whole way. I love you so much. I promise."

He raises his head and she almost can't swallow the sob in her throat at his look. So lost. So damned sad. "Don't leave me," he murmurs, that stricken look still on his face. "Promise me you won't leave me."

She cups his cheek, biting her lip to keep what's left her control. Trying to be his strength for now. "Promise, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not gonna leave you."

Leaning forward, she tries to kiss the tears from his cheeks, but only succeeds in mingling her own with them. "I'm here. I'm here, love."

Dean nuzzles her face as she kisses him, breath hitching. His eyes drift closed as his lips slide over her skin before finally stumbling against hers. Their mouths meet slowly, almost painfully. Agonizingly. Lips drifting over each other, offering and receiving whatever solace they can.

His tongue flickers out, tasting her bottom lip and she sighs softly. Her fingers slide from his cheek to his jaw, down around his neck and back up. She lets him lead, lets him take what he needs at whatever pace he needs. Comfort is the only thing on her mind now. The only thing she has.

After probably the most heartbreaking kiss she's ever shared with anyone, he leans away. Her eyes flutter open to meet his. They're dark with pain, squeezing her heart. He slips a hand under the edge of her shirt, fingers flexing over her skin.

"What am I gonna do?" he murmurs in a nearly child-like voice. That lost expression returns and the vulnerability in it is difficult to watch. He's normally so strong. Tough as nails. But tonight he allows her to see him completely unguarded.

"I wish I knew, sweetheart." She strokes his face, thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "But we'll figure it out. Together."

He nods absently. "Together." Leaning back, he drops his head on the back of the sofa, eyes falling closed. "So tired."

She smiles sadly, smoothing a hand across his forehead. He relaxes back, but doesn't release his grip on her. "You rest now, baby."

Another nod then his eyes pop back open. "You'll stay?"

"Of course I'll stay," she whispers, snuggling into his lap. Her head fits into his shoulder just as it should and her hand curls over his heart. "As long as you need me."

She feels him relax even further as exhaustion, both physical and emotional, suck him toward sleep.

"Love you..." he mumbles, the words trailing off as he succumbs to slumber.

"Love you, too," she whispers, though she knows he can't hear her.

She's exhausted as well, but it's a long time before sleep takes her. Her thoughts swirl as she wonders and worries.

Worries about what tomorrow will bring. And wonders how she's going to save them this time.


End file.
